


Klexos- chapter 8

by bobasheebaby



Series: Monsters [8]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Past Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23135557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobasheebaby/pseuds/bobasheebaby
Summary: Emma gets a makeover.
Relationships: Liam & Main Character (The Royal Romance), Liam/Olivia Nevrakis, Olivia Nevrakis/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: Monsters [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621735
Kudos: 6





	Klexos- chapter 8

_Klexos is the art of dwelling on the past - and it really is art if you think about it._

Hushed whispers froze Olivia in her tracks, overheard snippets of their conversation making her skin crawl. She slipped off her heels before moving closer to the door to listen.

“What was I even thinking, Maxwell?! What was _Liam_ thinking?”

_What the hell is Bertrand talking about?!_ She inched closer, keeping her body cloaked in the shadows of the hallway as she listened in on the brothers' conversation.

“She’s clearly in over her head. She has no idea what it takes to succeed in court, let alone be queen!” Bertrand said as she heard him sit on his creaky, antique rocker.

“Didn’t he already pay us?”

_He paid them?!_ Her fingers curled, pale mauve nails digging into the palms of her hands.

“He merely paid us enough to get through the social season. He probably has doubts himself and is delaying the rest of the payment until the task is complete.”

Olivia’s blood boiled at learning of Liam's actions; she wondered why he would keep such a big secret from her. _How much money is he paying them?! He’s going to drive her away just like he did with Juliet!_ She shook her head. It wouldn’t be inappropriate to help support Emma and their efforts but to pay them?

“Bertrand, I don’t see the issue. We can host a fantastic Beaumont Bash to close the social season, Liam will be happy with Emma, and we can pretend Father didn’t nearly run our duchy into the ground.” Maxwell paused as he considered the situation. “It seems pretty win-win to me.”

Bertrand let out an exasperated sigh. “Hopefully you’re right, Maxwell.”

\--

The sun shone in through the curtains of Emma’s bedroom as she stretched into the soft sheets. Even after a week of mornings waking up at the Beaumont Estate, she still felt like she was dreaming. Her lessons were difficult, but she found she was quickly getting the hang of the basics of courtly life. At times, Bertrand intimidated her with his sternness, but she knew she could count on Maxwell and Olivia to make her smile.

She heard a soft knock on her door and quickly pulled on a robe before answering it. _Did Maxwell finally learn to knock?_ Every morning at the crack of dawn Maxwell was busting into her room effervescent and ready to go; today she’d actually been allowed to sleep an extra hour.

Emma’s clover green eyes went wide as the door opened to reveal Olivia dressed to perfection. She felt self-conscious with her tangled hair and barely closed robe. “O — Olivia,” she said, surprise clear in her tone and expression.

Olivia forced down the rage simmering in her gut for what she overheard the brothers’ discussion just minutes before knocking on Emma’s door; she could handle Liam later. For now, both she and Emma needed dresses for the masquerade ball in two days. She smiled at Emma’s reaction. “We have a fairly easy day -- spa visit, shopping for the masquerade, and the hairdresser.”

Emma quickly fixed her face with a neutral expression, praying that her heated cheeks wouldn’t give away her feelings. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said before looking down at her silk robe and nightdress. She cleared her throat. “Uh, I need to get dressed.”

\--

Emma stepped into the sauna wrapped in a fluffy white towel. She felt raw and exposed. Even with Olivia having seen her bare before, she felt as though her body would be judged just like all of her past partners.

She shivered as she remembered the digs made about the _barely_ pinchable ‘fat’ along her midsection or that her hips were curvier, _wider_ than other women her height. The silver, barely visible stretch marks that marred her “otherwise perfect tits”. All the remarks made at the expense of her self esteem once again reared their ugly head; once again, she doubted that Liam and Olivia really wanted her. Prior lovers found her easily replaceable; who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen an ocean away from where she had called home?

She looked up as Olivia stepped into the room, a sudden gust of cool air mixing with the dry heat contained within the cedar scented room.

“You can remove the towel -- it’s just us,” Olivia said as she loosened her towel and allowed it to fall to her feet.

Emma’s face heated, her cheeks blushing a fever red. Seeing Olivia’s body on full display in a more relaxed setting felt extremely raw.

Emma noticed a large, raised scar across Olivia’s ribs just under her breast as she settled on the bench beside her.

“What happened here?” Emma whispered as her finger traced the scar on Olivia’s side.

Olivia shivered at Emma’s soft touch. “The king slashed me with a sword for playing with a cardboard one. He refused to have it cleaned or treated; I almost died. They left for something and Liam found me help in time. I owe him my life. He defied orders to save my life. I would do _anything_ for Liam. He doesn’t even need to ask.”

“Holy shit,” Emma breathed. She knew they had been abused as children just as she had, but she didn’t know how badly they were treated until now.

“He has a matching scar for getting me help ... but they treated him.”

“Why would the king and queen do that to you?”

Olivia laughed and gestured at Emma's scar-riddled body. “Why would anyone do such things to a child? Because they can.”

\--

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Bertrand; the way he stood near a rack of ball gowns with his shoulders back and his hands clasped in front of him made her uneasy. She knew he was nothing like Trey, but the way he raised his brow or grunted in disapproval as she shopped reminded her of shopping with Trey. She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. _Trey is gone, he can’t hurt you anymore._

_Bertrand isn’t Trey. There is no more Trey._

Olivia sensed Emma’s unease and shot him a disapproving look. “Bertrand, maybe there is something else that is more _fitting_ of your time than to stand and grunt while we shop?”

“I need to ensure she doesn’t purchase a gown that would bring shame to my house,” Bertrand replied, not backing down.

Emma nervously tugged at her sleeves; Bertrand’s comment cut her deeper than she expected. She thought of all the thin silvery scars that mingled with crueler burns and fading bruises that littered her freckled skin. Her throat closed at the memory of the one occasion Trey insisted that she show off her _assets_ to impress his friends.

_She tried to ignore the questioning looks from the thin blonde hanging on Tony’s arm. The way she gazed at the years of marks etched on her skin made her stomach churn. She hated the questioning looks and glances and kept her eyes down to avoid them._ Why did he insist on me wearing something so low cut and tight?

_She tried to have fun, to play nice with Trey and his friends, but she still couldn’t please him. His fingers dug into her arm, adding to the bruises coating her freckled skin. The meaning of his actions was clear:_ stop embarrassing me by flirting. _She inhaled, attempting to calm her nerves as she plastered a smile back on her face. She made the mistake in meeting his eye, his hard glare telling her she wasn’t going to make this better._

She forced a smile on her lips. “I prefer more modest clothing.”

Bertrand smiled; maybe she wasn’t a lost cause. If she _looked_ respectable _and_ he was able to teach her to behave appropriately then they might be able to achieve the desired end result. “Very well then.” He gave her a curt nod. “I leave her in your capable hands, Duchess Olivia.” He looked down at his phone and a grimace overtook his face. _For god’s sake, Maxwell. We haven’t fixed our finances yet! No more peacocks!_

Emma paused at a soft pink dress and gently touched the glittery sleeves. Her eyes were wide with awe at how the silky fabric shimmered. She pulled her hand away; she knew wearing a dress that beautiful would put all eyes on her and would only bring trouble.

_Emma halfheartedly sifted through_ another _rack of hand me downs that had seen better days._ Maybe someday I can afford to be the **first** owner. _She paused as her fingers caressed satin._

_She pulled the black satin dress with dark grey polka dots from the rack with a gasp. The dress was understated and conservative like she preferred, while still being fun and feminine._

_She held the garment up in front of her at a mirror and imagined herself twirling with a true smile on her face. She knew she would feel so beautiful wearing it._

_The smile dropped from her lips as images of Trey invaded her mind:_ why did you waste my money on that? Are you trying to get other men to look at you? Remember: you’re mine!

Maybe next time, _she thought as she replaced the dress on the rack. She frowned as she looked back to her cart teeming with plain, oversized shirts and rigid black work pants._

_She hated the clothes she wore but they didn’t spark fights and covered her existing cuts and burns. She gave one last longing look to the polka dot dress, her hopes of owning it snatched away as a woman with porcelain skin and a stylish haircut picked it off the rack and placed it in her cart._

_This was the price she had to pay for love._

Olivia silently watched Emma walk around the boutique, touching dresses then walking away; it was clear she wasn’t enjoying herself. She knew what she was thinking: she was still used to pleasing Trey.

She quietly stepped up beside her as she looked at a rose gold gown. “You have good taste -- try it on.”

Emma shook her head. If she tried it on she’d just fall in love, then she’d be unable to put it back. “I shouldn’t — Trey hated when —”

“Trey is gone.” Olivia gently placed her hand on Emma’s shoulder, her emerald green eyes locking on paler green. “It will take time, but you _can_ reclaim your life.” She lifted the dress from the rack. “And that starts with deciding which dress you want to wear to the ball.”

“I don’t know what I like. This is stressful. How do you even pick the perfect dress for a ball, nonetheless a ball where you are making your first impression to a bunch of nobles you don’t know?” Emma worried her lip as she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of hard candy.

“How about this,” Olivia said as she watched Emma tuck the lemon drop into her mouth. “I’ll call my stylist and we can let her do her magic. She is very good at her job and will have several options for each of us when we get back to the estate.”

“Is that a thing rich people do?” Emma asked. The idea of having someone else shop for your clothes boggled her mind.

“Well, I can’t speak for everyone but sometimes it is nice to have help. I have things to do. Why spend a day shopping for an event when Sasha can bring me a few to select from?” Olivia linked her arm with Emma’s. “Let’s shop for something fun. Lingerie!”

\--

Emma pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. “Are you sure this is the right size? This isn’t the size I wear … ” Shopping for new underwear seemed exciting at first, but Emma wasn’t convinced that the bra she was trying on was the right size.

Olivia smiled softly. “Trust me, you’ve been wearing the wrong size. Now go in and try it on.” Olivia handed her the garment and Emma felt a spark as their fingers brushed.

Emma sighed as she entered the fitting room _. It doesn’t hurt to try it on,_ she thought as she changed out of her top and tried on the bra. 

After a few minutes, Olivia called from outside the changing room. “How does it look?”

“Okay, I think.” Emma frowned at her reflection as she fussed with the straps and cups. “Could you come in and help?”

Olivia slipped into the fitting room and examined the bra. “Okay, we need to tighten these a little bit,” she said as she carefully adjusted the straps. “See? It gives you proper support and is very flattering for your figure.” Her fingers gently traced over the curve of Emma’s breast. She grinned as she watched a blush cover Emma’s freckled skin in the mirror. Emma watched her hands in the mirror before looking up to see Olivia watching her.

“May I kiss you?”

Emma nodded, surprised by the question; Trey never asked, he always took. She turned to face Olivia, her heart thundering in her chest. She realized that this would be their _first_ real kiss.

Olivia brushed her hand across Emma’s freckled cheek. She leaned in, her cherry red lips meeting pale pink in a feather-light kiss.

Emma gasped as electricity coursed through her. The kiss was slow and tender, containing more care and passion than their last. She wrapped her arms around Olivia’s slender waist, pulling her thin frame to hers. Her body felt more alive than ever before. She pressed her body into Olivia’s and returned her kiss with more fervor.

Rustling outside the dressing room reminded them they weren’t alone. They broke apart breathless.

Emma ducked her head down, embarrassed by her impulsivity. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get carried away.”

Olivia cupped her chin and met her eyes. “Never apologize for feeling.”

Emma blushed, savoring how her lips still tingled from where Olivia’s touched hers.

“You should definitely get that bra and the matching panties.”

Olivia’s words brought her crashing back to Earth. _Right, shopping. You’re here to become queen._

\--

Olivia watched Emma’s eyes scan the expensive products lining the salon shelves. Emma was still getting used to being treated like royalty. “Excited?”

Emma startled as she pulled herself from her daydream. “I’ll have to get used to this, you know …” Her eyes darted around quickly before she leaned into Olivia’s ear. “I’m going to be a queen.” In another life, she would have laughed at the obvious joke; no one so important would _ever_ have any interest in someone like her. But _he_ had, _they_ had.

The stylist brought her back, draped her with a cape, and served her a flute of champagne. She glanced at the mirror to see the reflection of Olivia standing next to her. She was so perfect and poised; she didn’t let her past weigh her down. _Will I ever be able to do the same?_ It felt like her past fought to weigh her down.

Her eyes flicked to her stylist, who was waiting for direction. Having her hair styled should have fun; instead, it felt daunting. She wasn’t sure if she would make the proper choices that would show she was fit to become queen.

She looked at her chin-length strawberry blonde locks in the mirror before her eyes darted to Olivia’s long crimson waves. She’d had long hair when she was younger and she wanted it again. “Could I have extensions?” She caught Olivia’s gaze in the mirror. “Is that too much?”

Olivia met her eyes as she placed her hand on her shoulder. “It sounds perfect.”

Emma nodded. She had become so used to her opinions not mattering that she’d completely lost her voice.

“I’d like extensions, please.” Her voice slightly wavered, but it felt good to ask for what _she_ wanted. She motioned her hands to her mid-torso. “This long.”

The stylist nodded before leaving to collect her supplies.

Emma turned and smiled at Olivia. “Do you think Liam will like it?” She paused when Olivia lifted her brow. “I mean, not that I’m doing it for him, but … “

“I understand. And he will love you, long hair or short. He cares about you for who you are.”

Emma blushed; to be loved for who _she_ was was a new concept to her. “Are you getting your hair done today?”

Olivia considered herself in the mirror. “I’ll have a trim and a conditioning treatment. I don’t like cutting my hair.

\--

_Olivia jumped as her door hit the wall with a loud crack. She turned, her body physically shaking as she came to face a seething Regina. She froze, unable to move. She racked her brain trying to think what she could have done to cause_ this _level of rage in the queen._

_“I can’t believe you!” Regina stomped into the room with heavy footsteps that shook the floor. “We bring you into_ our _home; clothe you, take care of you. The one thing that’s expected of you is to not make a goddamn fool out of us and what do you do?!”_

_Olivia stared at the woman, afraid to speak. She’d never seen her_ this _angry before._

_Regina loomed over her, her fist twisting in her crimson locks and pulling her head up with an unforgiving force that made Olivia gasp in pain. “Do you have nothing to say for yourself? You’re always ready to shoot your mouth, but you can’t defend yourself now?”_

_Olivia whimpered, unable to hold back the sound as the hand tightened its grip on her hair. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she willed them to stay._

_“Well?” She jerked her hand back._

_Olivia blinked, forcing herself to study the molding along the ceiling. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She squeaked. She tried to stay quiet to keep her punishment from being worse, but it was clear that silence wasn’t the answer._

_Regina let out a humorless laugh. “You never know, do you?”_

_Olivia shook her head, afraid to speak._

_“You gave yourself away! I just want to know to whom.” She tossed Olivia’s small form face-first into the bed. “Well, I guess that’s obvious, isn’t it? You only spend your time with one boy.”_

She’s talking about — how did she find out? And she blames me?

_“I guess it_ could _be one of those Beaumont boys. I told the king it was a bad idea to let them hang around a girl like you. You come from cheap stock; you flaunt yourself and think you deserve more than you do.” She plucked an ornate dagger out from under her dress._

_Olivia flinched, terror filling her emerald eyes._ Is she going to kill me? Leo r-raped me and she’s going to kill me?!

_She wrenched Olivia up by her hair. “Those boys aren’t coming around here anymore. I don’t care if they lost their mother and their father is ill; we are running a country, not a damn orphanage! I told him that before we brought you in, but he chose to listen to his insipid boy instead.” Regina shook her head in disgust. “I don’t know why he feels like he owes Liam anything after it cost him his beloved Eleanor.”_

_Regina pulled Olivia’s face to hers. “You are not to spend_ unchaperoned _time with Liam; he’s better than you, though not by much. Your blood will not taint the royal family. I_ will not _raise_ your _bastard.” She raised her blade and sliced into Olivia’s hair with a harsh sawing motion, cutting uneven chunks of hair from her scalp._

_Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to watch as clump after clump of her lustrous hair fell around her like rose petals. Minutes went by before Regina released Olivia’s head for the final time. She kept her hands in front of her after falling onto her bed; she didn’t need to look or touch to know what her hair looked like._

_Regina stepped back. “_ You _are_ nothing.”

_Olivia waited for her door to slam to know that she was finally alone, safe. She curled into a ball and her tears fell with abandon._ It wasn’t me. It was your precious prince. _The words had threatened to spill from her lips numerous times, but she kept them in. She knew they wouldn’t do her any good._

_No one would ever believe her._

\--

Emma twirled the ends of her long hair in her fingers as she looked out the town car window as they approached the palace. She wasn’t sure what the stylist had done after sewing them in, but the potions and creams she applied transformed her flat, dull hair into a shiny swirl of strawberry blonde with creamy highlights. The soft waves were the final touch to transform her into a woman who would fit in at court.

“Emma?”

Emma startled before giving Olivia a sheepish grin. “I was just daydreaming. My new hair … I feel different now.”

“We’re home.” Olivia nodded out the window as the private entry of the palace came into view.

Olivia and Emma sat in the back of her town car as the chauffeur walked around to open their doors.

"Are you sure it's okay that we came back early?" Emma asked softly as her eyes took in the palace.

Olivia waved her hand dismissively. "Of course it's okay. The palace is as much our home as it is his." She smiled at Emma before starting towards the front doors. "Let's go greet our king."

Emma stepped quickly to catch up with Olivia. "Are you sure we should see him first? Shouldn’t we get settled? You can show me around. I'm sure Liam is still working."

Olivia let out a quick, sharp laugh before suddenly stopping. _If only Emma knew Liam was paying the Beaumont brothers to play nice. She would be heartbroken to find out their kindness had been bought._

Emma's face fell at her reaction.

"I'm sorry. I should have mentioned that he likes to know when I arrive -- and you too. This time he will be extra excited." Olivia said with a wink.

"Oh?" Emma asked as she stopped outside a set of ornate doors.

Emma watched as Olivia spoke to the guards standing at attention outside the door in Greek, her tongue sharp and exact. The guards nodded before stepping forward to open the door.

Olivia smirked at Emma. "I always get my way." She smoothed down the front of her dress as the door opened and glided into Liam's office as soon as it was possible. Emma scurried in behind her.

"Liam, darling," she cooed as Liam looked up from his paperwork, his face going white. "We're home."


End file.
